Day 3118

Often when I'm at the gym, I'm reminded of Andy Warhol's desire to be a machine. I feel like a machine sometime. So many aspects of my life are repetitive in nature. It's not just my time on the treadmill that is entirely predictable. Almost everything is entirely predictable. It wasn't always this way, but increasingly I find familiarity comforting. I like knowing what is going to happen before it happens. The good thing about this kind of life is that you really start to notice little things. If there is any change at all in Dash's behavior, I'm instantly aware of it. I can tell if this week's peaches and strawberries are different than last week's, and can feel if the temperature in the house is one degree warmer than is was yesterday.

The bad thing about predictability is that anything new seems ominous. I will stare at a menu forever before ordering something new for breakfast. I almost never take a new route to a destination. Forget about new friends. If I haven't known you for thirty years, I probably never will. I think about these things while I'm on the treadmill. Exercise is so predictable. That's the one thing I like about going to the gym. I can tell you what my heart rate is going to be at any given time and can predict within ten seconds how long it takes to walk a mile. I still don't know how long it will take to shoot ten free throws on the basketball court, but I'm working on it.

Maybe weather forecasts are frustrating to me because they aren't predictable at all. Yesterday, I thought it was going to rain all next week. Today the forecast has changed. I think it is only supposed to rain on Tuesday. I wish I really knew for certain when we were going to have seven days of clear, dry weather, so I could insist that the roofers come out and finish their repairs. The roofers know that the weather is their friend. The threat of rain is always a good excuse to postpone things.

It's amazing that they are actually getting those boys trapped in that cave in Thailand out alive. The threat of rain is really serious there. I can think of few things worse than being trapped in a flooded cave. Why do people even go in caves? My Dad was a zoologist who studied bats and he would take me in caves occasionally. Caves are wet and claustrophobic. I was always worried that a rock was going to fall and trap us inside. I frequently have dreams that involve being lost. When I was a child, I was usually crawling endlessly through a cave in these dreams. Now, I seem to be lost in a huge hotel. I guess that's progress. Hopefully, all the Thai boys will be extricated safely. I bet it will be a long time before any of them go inside a cave again.

Our house is becoming filled with cheap throw rugs again. Dash's rear legs keep getting weaker and I keep having to bring additional rugs home from the storage warehouse to keep him from slipping. The kitchen and dining areas are filled with rugs now, so Dash won't fall while he is eating. There are carpets in the bedrooms, so he is OK there. I hope we can keep the area where he typically poops on the floor free of rugs for as long as we can. It's a lot easier to clean up poop when it lands on the bricks.

I wish I could predict what was going to happen next with Dash. This is the one area of my life where I've got to stay flexible. He's getting old and frail, but so far, we've been able to adjust so that his life remains enjoyable. All that being said, I hope he lets me get some sleep tonight. I'm getting older too.

Trevor is today's Dalmatian of the Day

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